The Red Bicycle
by Clare Hope
Summary: The Ninth Doctor leaves Rose in the alleyway during the first episode of series one, "Rose". It's a time machine. Where does he go? And later in the season, how does he know that she got a red bicycle from Father Christmas when she was 12? (I don't own Doctor Who, I just like to play in its universe sometimes).


The Doctor, clad in a leather jacket, stood alone at his TARDIS console. He had accepted the blonde's refusal with fake cheer, but now he was alone, and his so recent loss of planet, home, and species was difficult to bear. Not to mention he had just regenerated four days prior, and had spent three of them passed out on the TARDIS floor. She had re-engineered herself while he was asleep. He liked the new "desktop", as he sometimes called it. It was sort of…coral themed now, with strange, curving, branching columns stretching towards the ceiling. They'd be good to throw a long coat across, he reflected. Maybe someday he'd wear one.

The TARDIS had made him a new sonic screwdriver, too. It had a blue light now. That was interesting. The sound was a bit different, too, less high-pitched and more buzzing. He liked it, actually. Different was good. Different made him think less about how things used to be. He never wanted to think about those times again. He couldn't believe how old he felt, and yet his body was one of the younger ones he had inhabited. His fifth and eighth were younger, but that was it.

He could not remember…_anything_ about the moments leading up to his regeneration this time. Just the terrible feeling of failure, a red crystal button, the sound of his TARDIS, and the words "no more" remained in his mind. All he knew was that Gallifrey was gone forever, and along with it his entire species. He was the last of the Time Lords.

Of course, he had hoped to find someone new to travel with. And that blonde girl, Rose Tyler, she had been _brilliant_. There was something so familiar about her, something he couldn't remember. But he really had thought that he had found a friend. There just didn't seem to be any point in travelling anymore without someone to share it with.

_I could just stop_, he mused, flicking a switch absentmindedly. He dismissed this idea instantly. _Nah, because then what would be the point in existing? _Another thought, unwelcome, chilling, crept in. _I could stop existing, too. Only three more regenerations, and then I'd be done. No more Time Lords. _

"No," he said aloud. "No, that's not an option. Why'd I even…No." But the thought was there, and he couldn't get rid of it. His TARDIS whirred softly at him. "Yeah, I know, old girl. I won't leave you all alone. All right, I'll leave it up to you. Where should we go?" His new voice was strange. Strange accent. He was alone, why was he still using English when Gallifreyan was so much more beautiful? "Take me anywhere, girl." He knew why. His own language would hurt. There was never again going to be anyone who would answer him back likewise.

The incredible, familiar noise of his oldest and best friend broke the silence in his own mind. He closed his eyes, allowing her to let him forget his loneliness for a moment. It washed over him again as they landed, but the instant of forgetfulness had been immensely comforting.

"I'll just take a look around, shall I?" he remarked to his TARDIS, opening the door with a creak, patting her affectionately on her blue phone box exterior before glancing at his surroundings.

Huh, that was odd. He could have sworn that this was the same alley he had departed from just a minute ago, but it was snowing now, and it was daytime, not night. A loud burst of laughter sounded from the edge of the alley, from the street. He wandered over, curious as to who was happy.

It was two children, two young girls. One was brunette, the other, blonde. Somehow, he immediately recognized the blonde child as the same woman he had just met, but several years in her past. The blonde girl was chatting animatedly to her friend.

"And mum promised she was going to get me the red bicycle I wanted! Though she's still saying it's going to be Santa," she laughed.

"That's brilliant, Rose, can I ride it after you?" the other girl asked, slightly enviously.

Rose's smile lit up her face. "Course you can, May, it's Christmas! And what do you think you're going to get?" The other girl, May, responded with something, but they had already walked out of earshot. The Doctor watched them go, wondering why the TARDIS had brought him here.

Just then, as he was walking down the street in the opposite direction that the girls had gone, he spotted someone else he recognized: Rose's mum, Jackie, though she, too, looked much younger. She was standing on the sidewalk, watching her daughter walk away. There were tears in her eyes, and she was talking to someone on a mobile phone.

"She really wants that bicycle, Mo, could—Yeah, I know, I'm sorry, we're all tight on money, I just dunno how I'm going to afford it!...Okay, sorry to ask like that. Right, yeah, talk to you later." Jackie hung up and shoved the phone into her pocket. "Damn," she muttered, and turned away, wrapping her coat tightly around her and walking away, head lowered against the snow.

The Doctor made a ridiculous, snap decision. It was stupid, but he had really liked Rose, and he couldn't stand the thought of her being disappointed on Christmas. He was going to buy her that bicycle, and leave it for her.

A few hours later, once he had realized that he didn't actually have any money and so had, er, _borrowed_ some out of an ATM using his new sonic, he had the aforementioned bicycle. _What am I going to do with this, exactly?_ he asked himself. He rolled it back to his TARDIS, through the snow, and, once inside, he made a quick jump through time, to Christmas morning, 1998, to right underneath Rose and her mum's flat. It was very early in the morning, and the sun was not even quite rising.

He carried the bicycle up the stairs until he found the door to their flat. He leaned it against the wall, carefully placing the note he had written, in disguised script, on the seat. It read: _To Rose, From Santa Claus_. He had thought that would be amusing, and would certainly confuse Jackie. Even though it was only five thirty in the morning, he decided to knock on the door. Loudly. Then he fled down the stairs again. He heard the door open, and Jackie's grumble of "Who the hell at five on Christmas day—"

And then she screamed. "Rose! Rose, love, come here! Look what Santa left!"

A sleepy mumble answered her. "Mum, shush, 's too early for presents."

"Oh, well, your loss, love, but I'm sure that your new bike will be here in a few hours."

A squeal of excitement and a scramble could be heard from the flat. "Mum, you said you couldn't afford the bike!"

"I didn't," Jackie said happily. "Wasn't me, sweetheart."

Rose's voice was much closer now. "Mum, you know I don't believe in Santa anymore." Another squeal. "Oh, Mum, it's beautiful!"

"I don't know who, but you've got a friend, love."

The Doctor, smiling, stepped back into his TARDIS. He waited until he heard the door close again before leaving. Suddenly, he had an idea. Hardly daring to think it might work, he set the coordinates.

He opened the door.

"Did I mention?" he called. "It also travels in time!"


End file.
